


NASCAR's Girl (Chase Elliott Fanfiction)

by RacingFanatic12



Category: NASCAR - Fandom
Genre: Chase Elliott - Freeform, NASCAR, Racing, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 04:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11283777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacingFanatic12/pseuds/RacingFanatic12
Summary: I'm twenty years old.I drive the #12 Joe Gibbs Racing Mountain Dew Chevrolet in the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series.People tell me I'm a natural, but learning how to drive like the pros took me nineteen years.Moving from local dirt tracks like Cotton Bowl Speedway to Daytona International Speedway has been the hardest journey of my life.  When things don't work out, when I couldn't find sponsors, when my crew didn't want to work with me.But don't underestimate me.I'm ruthless.I'm Aris Fuller.





	NASCAR's Girl (Chase Elliott Fanfiction)

Dedicated to William Clyde 'Chase' Elliott, my racing inspiration.

The sound of forty Nascar race-cars speeding at the 2017 Daytona 500 race-track has become back-ground noise for me. I've been through 188 laps, and have been leading the last fifteen. I can't wait to hit lap two-hundred and win.

The key to winning any race isn't having the fastest car, though that does help, it's being the best driver. And this field is full of the best of the best, not to mention Joey Logano right in my rear-view mirror for the last fifteen laps, trying and failing to pass me.

No one is going to give me this win, and I don't expect them to.

Kyle Busch in the number 18 is side-drafted by Chase Elliott and slides onto the green, the ninth caution of the day goes into effect.

I turn my eyes back to the track ahead of me and slow to half-throttle as the caution car slides onto the track.

Joey is still behind me, not looking very pleased when he gets passed by Ryan Blaney in the number 21 car. Ryan slides half-way around me and I block him, my left-rear bumper grazing his right-front bumper. His hand goes out the window, and I can tell he's going to want to have a talk with me after the race.

"Hey Aris, you might want to go ahead and pit while the caution's out, you probably won't have another chance." My crew chief, George Hamilton, suggests.

"Not a chance, I've got enough in the tank to get me to the end and my tires are all good. I'll just ride this one out." I reply, not willing to risk loosing my hard-earned position.

The caution car's lights go out after three laps, and we enter the last lap of caution. My hands tighten on the wheel and I tense for the restart zone. "Green, Green, Green. Punch it Aris!"

Shoving the throttle to full, all forty cars start to move again like a two-hundred mile an hour wave.

Logano drops back in my mirror, and Ryan comes in for another try at taking my position. He immediately starts to bump-draft me, pushing my car forward so he can get a run and pass me.

I ride the inside as we go into turn four, effectively not letting Blaney take the inside. He starts dropping back to try and make the run, but I drop back in front of him, leaving little room for him to get around me.

Lap 193, only seven more to go. Kurt Busch slides around Ryan Blaney, and follows me closely around another lap.

Lap198, Kurt Busch pulls around me. His Monster Energy car handling perfectly.

"He's great, you have to admit that." I tell my chief as Kurt Busch finishes first and I finish second.

On pit road, one of my crew-men hands me a bottled Mountain Dew and I take it, drinking almost half it in one gulp. My adrenaline isn't ebbing yet.

A news-man comes up to me and begins asking me questions. "So Aris,how does it feel to get a second-place finish at Daytona?"

"Second place is just the first loser. Not the finish we wanted, obviously, but we had a good car. We should be in Victory lane right now." I reply, wiping the sweat from my face and slipping on a Mountain Dew cap.

I see Kevin Harvick walking up to my car, and before I know it, he's raining blows on me. I put my arms in front of my face, but I knew my nose and bottom lip is bleeding.

"Cut it out, Kevin! Aris!" Someone calls out, and a whistle blows.

He's pulled away from me, and my chief and some NASCAR Officials drag me toward the wall. "Are you okay? What hurts?" My chief asks.

"I'm fine, George! Just let it go, okay?" I reply, waving the four pairs of hands away from my face. "Just get me a tissue for my nose."

I'm hustled off to post-race interviews and I notice that Chase is sitting at the interview desk also, a smile on his face.

I sit down, smoothing my hair and adjusting my suit.

"What happened to you?" Chase Elliott asks, his eyes roving over my face.

"Well, instead of fist-to-cuff, it really was more like fist-to-face. Kevin Harvick wasn't very happy." I grunt, feeling the swelling next to my left eye.

"Just be careful from now on, okay?" He asks, concern and anger glinting in his deep brown eyes.

"I will."


End file.
